Lineage
by Claddagh girl
Summary: Arthur has a moment of uncertainty shortly before his coronation. Featuring apprehensive!Arthur and supportive!Merlin. Thanks to Caitlin for the summary.


**Title**: Lineage  
**Rating**: G  
**Summary**: I fail at summaries. :o\ One shot future fic. There's apprehensive!Arthur and supportive!Merlin... *flails* I'm not even sure what this is, it's just something that popped in my head and ended up being completely different to how I intended it to be.  
**Warnings**: Character death but neither of the boys. m/m relationship. No artistic/literary merit whatsoever. I'm not even proud of it, it just bugged me until i wrote it down.  
**Disclaimer**: This incarnation of Merlin, Arthur, and all associated entities are the property of the BBC and Shine. I'm just playing with them in an attempt to avoid washing dishes. No money is being made from this, no matter how much I wish it were.  
**Un-beta'd**, any and all mistakes are mine. Please feel free to point them out.

~oOo~

Arthur sat on the edge of the freshly made bed and quietly contemplated his surroundings.

The golden dragon adorning the royal standard swayed gently, moved by a late summer breeze from the open window and a tiny fire fighting for life, and winning, blazed in the huge stone hearth. And then there were the cherished helms of his ancestors mounted on the far wall, grown in number since the last time he was here. These were all things he had seen countless times before, but yet the room felt strange, now. Different and somehow new.

His fingers caressed the heavy fabric of the long red bolster pillow cradled in his lap and he thought about the most important difference, the one that still made him ache inside. A feeling he doubted would ever really fade. He closed his eyes and watched the memory of his father pacing back and forth across the length of this very room deep in thought, his fists clenched tightly at his sides. Passion and fear radiating from his every pore, and the ghosts of the angry dead reflected in his eyes.

In a moment of growing panic, Arthur stood and crossed to the mirror wanting to see his own reflection, to look into his own eyes and know if he had inherited the pain of all whom Uther had scorned. He glared hard at the image of himself before him, desperate for answers but finding none. _What kind of ruler will I be? Will the people of Camelot mourn my loss as they have my fathers? _Although, admittedly, he was sure he felt that loss more than anyone else, he had no illusions as to what kind of monarch Uther had been. There had been a collective sigh of relief that spread throughout the land on hearing the news of his passing but Arthur found that, with everything they had lived through, he could forgive his people that much.

There was a quiet cough behind him and his eyes were drawn to the image of Merlin, dressed in ceremonial robes, who slowly walked towards him and placed his hands upon Arthur. He calmed considerably at the sight of his lover and realized that the young sorcerors presence alone was enough testament to the fact that he wasn't about to turn into his magic fearing father.

Their eyes met and Merlin dipped his head slightly, a smile of pride growing on his face. "It's time, your majesty." He said, as he dropped a gentle kiss on Arthur's neck and moved his hands in small comforting circles across the top of his shoulders.

Arthur felt a warmth rush through his skin and turned around to face Merlin, holding his cheek in the palm of his hand. "How many times do I have to tell you not to call me that in this room?"

"Oh I don't know, at least another fifty or so." They both laughed and Merlin leaned in for another kiss, this one a slow burning promise of what was to come when they could be alone again.

They broke apart, slowly, and Merlin ran his fingers through the hair on the back of Arthur's neck. "I'm sorry, Arthur. It's just this room, it doesn't feel like its yours." He began to flounder a little at the slightly affronted look that sprang to life on Arthur's face. "That's not what I meant, it is your room, you're the King. Well technically you're not yet, not until they stick the crown on your head but it definitely belongs to you." He bit his lip regretfully before continuing. "It's just, it's not _our_ room. In here, you can't be you and I can't be me. It doesn't feel _right_."

Arthur looked around the room and saw his father's helm mounted on the wall alongside those of all who had gone before him. He turned back to Merlin. "I know. There are too many ghosts." He quickly kissed Merlin again and pulled him by the hand through the open door out into the hall. "I'll have my manservant make up my old room, we'll stay there again from now on and only use this place when we have guests."

"You mean you'll have _me_ make up the room, I am still your manservant after all... Right?"

At hearing the uncertainty in Merlin's voice, Arthur stopped abruptly and shoved him hard into the wall, kissing him again and clutching him tightly against his own body."No Merlin." He purred, his eyes lit with lust and potential. "You're so much more than that."

Merlin hummed in appreciation and pressed his forehead to Arthur's. "Well, just make sure your remember that if I can't help laughing when they put that stupid girly crown on your head in about an hours time."

Arthur rolled his eyes and pushed away from Merlin to continue his journey down the corridor. "I swear, Merlin, if you make me laugh I'll have you in the stocks quicker than you can say _I'm sorry your Majesty_."

"Promises, promises." Merlin sighed dramatically and ran to catch up with Arthur's hurried pace as they made their way to the great hall.

Arthur had been born and raised to rule Camelot. He had been taught from an early age that he carried the weight and expectations of many honorable and noble men upon his shoulders; that the people would look to him to make their world a better place, but Arthur wasn't yet sure he could live up to any of it.

Soon enough the Bishop placed the heavy golden ring above his head and and a heavier title upon his person, and as Arthur caught sight of Merlin, free to be himself at last and holding in a sputter of laughter, he made a vow right at that very moment that he would exceed those expectations, or die trying.

On this, the first day of the reign of King Arthur Pendragon, neither he nor Merlin could fight the joy overwhelming their spirits with the knowledge that this was the first day of the rest of their lives. The first day of a new world where the people no longer had to live in fear, a world where magic would thrive in more than just the hearts of two young lovers .  
A world they would build together.


End file.
